The Fifth Night
by illyriazshell
Summary: Four nights after "Fool for Love," Buffy finds herself comforted by a certain peroxide blonde vampire. But can the break from rivalry last? Riley is a jerk, as per usual.


Title:The Fifth Night

Author:Aquatic Butterfly

Rating:Pretty much PG-13. Nothing too naughty here, other than a few light innuendos here and there.

Disclaimer:What it would be like to have power over Spike? If I did, or any of the other parts of the lovely universe created by Mutant Enemy Inc, then our Universe would be a very different place. Sadly, I don't and it isn't.

Summary:Takes place right after Fool For Love (can you guess how many nights?), but without really anything hospital related having occurred yet. Buffy's still waiting for the results. Spike comforts Buffy in many different ways. But does the brief break from rivalry last? (Dun...dun…dunnnnnn)

A/N:Ok, originally this story was written for a very good friend of mine. However, certain…complications have made it difficult for said person to receive this story. I know this is very vague and I know what you're thinking…

"What's wrong?"  
"I don't want to talk about it?"  
"Is there anything I can do?"

(I don't respond and Spike comes over and pats me awkwardly on the back.)  
Was I the only one thinking that? Oh well. Anyways, this story is still dedicated to her, since she was originally who I wrote it for.

Updated Authors Note: Yes, I'm sorry. For the people who have already read this, I know this story's old news. I meant to delete another story, but when I went to go do it, the damn thing instead clicked this story! How crazy is that! And then, when the screen came up saying "Are you absolutely sure you want to delete this, give us your soul and chop down a tree with a herring,because this is permanent decision," I swear that they should have understood that when I clicked "yes," I clearly meant "no". Noone understands me.

* * *

It was the fifth night in a row she sat worried on the porch steps, in the backyard of 1630 Revello Drive, trying to find some peace and quiet from her stressful life and overcooked mind.

It was the fourth night in a row she turned amusedly to the rustling of the bushes and declared, more than asked, "What, no shotgun tonight?"

It was the third night in a row he sighed when replying "Don't fancy me any more of a headache than I already got, pet."

And, it was the second night in a row where she absent-mindedly shimmied over so that he, with no objection, could share a comfortable step with his mortal enemy.

Before Spike could open his mouth, Buffy answered "She's doing ok. We still haven't heard much of anything. Tomorrow, they're gonna show us…well, me, the X-rays."

"How's your mum doing? I bet she's as willing to stay in that gawd awful hospital as much as I'd be to swagger about the beach on a hot summer's day." Spike said as he reached inside his coat. Buffy flinched a little (in case he was bluffing earlier), but was only slightly relieved to see a Jack Daniels instead of a pistol.

"Oh, she's ready to get out all right. I really hate going there, you know." Buffy groaned. "I just want the tests to say her brain is only chock full of brainy-goodness, and finally mine will be less likely to explode." Buffy leaned heavily against the pole. Spike concentrated on her for a second, took a good, long swig, cleared his throat, but managed to remain perfectly silent.

_Poor girl, _he thought. _She's so depressed. The little bit is probably causing half of the stress, and they're 'int no-one in her life capable of relieving it…_Spike took a quiet whiff of the air. Buffy took no notice. _Speaking of Captain Cardboard…_

What Spike caught was the mixed stench of too much cologne and unchecked testosterone. He was either near by, or had been inside the house all day long. It would make sense. From what Spike could tell, Riley had been hanging around Buffy a lot in the past couple of days, ever since some unknown source may have implanted into his brain the doubt of his significance. A certain hurt and knowing look on the Boy Wonder's face was enough to make a certain someone else chuckle under his breath.

"What?" Buffy queried.

"Oh, nothing. Liquor makes me all giddy." A lie. "That, or murderously vengeful,.." He smirked a coy grin. "Which isn't saying much, now is it?"

Buffy grinned. Spike wafted again, figured that the scent was too diluted for Riley to be there right then, so he leaned against the opposite pole, avoiding dangerous splinters, and continued contentedly with his fifth night of rather interesting conversation.

* * *

It barely even creaked as the handle turned to open the front door. Just that instant, an anxious Riley walked into the Summers' residence, being careful not to make any loud noises. Buffy had been exhausted that day at the hospital, and he wanted to come to her house to see if a) she was finally getting some much needed rest or b) she, from what he could tell was the third night in a row, was chatting with the platinum blonde hostile about things she wasn't chatting about with him.

To his despair, his jealousy was correct in its decision to check the back porch before he checked her bedroom, and he saw what his thick head could only interpret as competition. Instead of going out and spoiling the special moment, Riley decided to keep an eye on his girl, in case this joker was up to something funny.

* * *

Spike was in a state of extreme confusion, showing none. _Why are you sympathizing with the Slayer. No more of this puppy love nonsense. Comfort, sure. But only to get closer, so the kill is that much sweeter._

But he couldn't help loving the scent of strawberry hairspray and the vanilla moisturizer.

She couldn't help hating the fragrance of cheap liquor and unfiltered cigarettes.

_Ok,_ Buffy thought. _This should be weird. Shouldn't this be weirder?_ The Slayer couldn't help thinking that perhaps this nightly routine was getting a little too routine. But he seemed to be the only one who listened to her; the only one who wasn't pressuring her to give up her emotions for someone else. _The only one who even pretends to care wants to rip my neck out. Go figure._

"So, how are you? I mean, fifth night in a row and all. I'm starting to think your either completely off your bird, or you can't wait to get home each night and have some awkward conversation with a, let's face it, mindless bloke." He turned towards her, "and after that, come out here to talk to me."

"Hey!" Solid punch in the arm. "Lay off Riley. He's been trying super hard to make sure I don't," she narrowed her eyes and dropped her voice, "_go off my bird._ Not that a cozy little one on one time with someone you loath isn't doing the trick."

_Ouch, that hurt._ "Trying to help? Not succeeding, then?"

"No, no, no. Insert exasperated sigh here. It's just he's been, oh, I don't know how to describe it. Lately, he's just been a little…jealous…"

_Ha. I knew Soldier Boy couldn't take it. Poncy bugger probably thinks I…_

"…of my mom. I've been spending a lot of time with her. Well, all my time. I think he feels I'm ignoring him or something." Buffy looked down, an expression of guilt spread across her face. _Why did I just tell that to _Spike

"Well, that's bloody selfish of him, in' it? Your mom, layin' sick in the hospital, an' he's worried that he isn't getting enough snuggle time. In my book, that would deserve one right between the eyes!" Spike said in a genuinely heated tone. His forehead was squinted in that way he sometimes squints, showing his real concern about an issue.

This kind of anger took Buffy a back a little. She never considered for a second, up until now, that he actually cared. Buffy didn't like liking it.

* * *

Riley couldn't take this anymore. He gritted his teeth. He didn't like not being able to hear the dialogue. Never mind that they weren't even in the same zip code while sitting on that step. Riley's insecurity got the better of him.

He first tried to slowly open the window. No luck. Riley couldn't lift it without jiggling the lock, and he knew from trying to open the kitchen window before that it squeaks. He kicked the banister on his way up the stairs to Buffy's bedroom. For a girl who had prowlers and enemies all over town, she sure had no qualms about leaving her bedroom window open. Probably a leftover habit from Angel. Kick. That one hurt almost, but not quite, enough to make him lose his balance.

He continued up the stairs, holding in a tear. Sure enough, the window was ajar, and he quietly limped towards the open air, listening for a trace of anything incriminating. Spike was sitting on the step alone, looking towards the house.

* * *

Buffy shut the back door silently as she stepped back onto the porch. "There wasn't anyone at the door. It was just a picture frame falling." She held up the shattered frame. Only bits of glass still clung to the picture of Buffy, Dawn and Joyce. Buffy sat back down and held the framework tightly in her grasp. Spike watched as golden curls covered her face, now shrouding her expression in mystery. It took no stretch of the imagination to visualize a look of pain, and at a moment where he should be relishing the image, he felt nothing but sympathy.

Spike took the bold move he had only tried the one time before, on their first night, and reached out to pat her back. She didn't take much notice, but at the same time, she didn't flinch either.

"Is this a sign? Is this what's happening to my life?" Buffy motioned towards the broken glass. "Is my world falling apart? Shattering?" The eye hidden from the vampire shed a single tear. "Mom could have a serious problem. Dawn's going crazy with worry and driving everyone nuts. Riley's so insecure. I'm breaking down in front of a vampire. I just want this back." She stroked the picture. She whimpered as she sliced the tip of her index finger on the shard.

"Oh great. And now I'm going to bleed to death," Buffy chuckled through her tear. She began sucking on her finger to stop the bleeding.

Spike increased the pressure of rubbing her back. He reassuringly said "Now, now, now, pet, don't be like that…" and motioned towards her wounded finger, "Didn't your mother ever tell you it's important to share?"

This comment was followed by a huge jolt in the shoulder. Spike playfully stuck out his tongue, and they both giggled. "You're sick!" She looked towards Spike, who still had his tongue out, and then, to her horror, used it to lick his lips.

"Pig!" This time he was the one to get it between the eyes. He continued to laugh, and to his great delight, she was still snickering under her breath. _Good job, Spike, you got her laughing, and now she looks gorgeous. She always looks beautiful when she's happy. _He ran his hand through his sexily tussled hair. After a moment, when they had both calmed down, he went back to comfort man.

"Aww, Slayer. Hate to remind you, but as long as there are evil bastards, such as my gorgeous self, your life is going to be anything but a bloody walk in the park. It'll be a walk in the cemetery beside the park. But seriously pet, you gotta realize that this is just a hill on a dangerously bumpy road. You'll get over it, 'cause you've got your family and Scoobies to pull you along when it gets rough." Now it was Spike's turn to look down.

"I am now going to drink my ass off so I can forget this overly profound moment that has forever compromised the terror I once struck in your heart." Spike took an inhumanly large swig of his bottle. He offered his booze to Buffy, who recoiled. "Aww, please forget with me!"

"No thanks." Buffy said emphatically. "After that whole beer fiasco last year, I only use alcohol for disinfecting near-mortal wounds. Speaking of which, I finally got some time, when mom was sleeping, to get this fixed." She lifted the bottom of her shirt. _Oh god Slayer! Why did you have to that? Bare slayer stomach. Bad Spike, Bad!_ "Riley's help notwithstanding, it was killing me and I couldn't go another night without proper stitches. Slayer healing wasn't kicking in fast enough, and I felt a whole load of guiltage piling up since the gang has been patrolling the last few nights."

"Getting rusty, then?" questioned Spike as he raised that incredibly sexy scar. "Maybe you being off the job is good news for me then. I can have myself that good day you promised me, eh luv?" _Crossing the line! Crossing the line! She's going to ask you to leave, moron, _thought Spike as some of that verbal diarrhea he was infamous for made its way into a conversation he thought was going well.

"Oh, thanks. That was _soooooooooo _comforting. Really, that helped." Said Buffy in that infamous oh-so-sarcastic tone. She turned away from the vampire and started rubbing her shoulders in an effort to feel warmer. So far, it wasn't going very well.

_Don't apologize. She'll be on to you._ "Hey, come on." he tapped her twice on the shoulder. Spike then stood up, and started darting back and forth to get himself revved up. "Come on now. Let's go then. Let's do it."

Buffy's eyebrow raised. "Do what? What are we doing?" _What are we doing?_

"You need to keep your practice up. In' going to be any fun draining you dry if I knew you were fighting below par. So," he held his hand out to her and genuinely asked, "do you want to dance?"

Buffy took a skeptical look at the hand. "Sparring?" He nodded his head. She said, "I've been sparring with Riley. I don't think so."

_Shot down. _"Come on, luv! That bloke couldn't last two minutes with an animal like you. A Slayer needs a real vampire to fight. It's like pancakes and syrup. One isn't really good without the other." He moved his hand closer.

Buffy lowered her voice and amusedly said, "Well, it's true that I don't have the perpetual need to beat the living daylights out of Riley." She gracefully took his hand. "I accept."

"Good then." Buffy felt a sudden jolt as he pulled her entire body off the steps and threw her over his shoulder. As he let go and she was flying through the air, she regained her balance and landed in a way Spike imagined a cat would. She took a huge breath and looked at him with daggers before she did a back flip and stood in a defensive pose.

Spike casually looked her up and down before offering, "One condition. No wood."

"You've got to promise that very same thing." Buffy said straightly.

A devilish smirk spread across his face. "Deal. Let's go, Slayer." He came at her swinging.

* * *

He touched her. She showed him her stomach. They had been flinging innuendos back and forth. Well, actually, it was mostly that jackass. But now they were _sparring?_ Not fighting, sparring. For a man who had incredibly short fingernails, Riley's fist seemed to be bleeding quite a bit.

How could she spend her time with Spike instead of wasting (oh, did I just say wasting? I did! Bad author. Bad Aqua! For shame, for shame! … wink) it with Riley. He was losing it. If this didn't end soon, he was damn well going to make sure it did.

* * *

Punch. "Why isn't," Kick. "this causing," Block. Block. "your head," Punch. Punch. Kick. "to explode?" Duck. Sweeping Kick.

"Because," Jump. "I'm not focusing," Duck, Kick. "on hurting you." Ouch. His head exploded and then he got it right in the jaw. Spike licked his lip, and sure enough, there was blood. "Bloody lovely. This isn't going to work if you keep yapping. I'm gonna lose my bloody concentration."

"SORR-EEE! I thought we were fighting here. There's always casualties." Punch. "Fine, no more talking. And stop licking your lip, its wigging me out!" He came at her with a roundhouse kick.

_Wow. He really is a quick fighter. We're pretty much matched right now, and he's trying _not_ to hurt me. I could definitely get used to this._ She took quite a notice to the grace and strength in his blows. He really was built to kill, and as another being built to kill, it was something she could definitely admire. _Plus he looks really hot. No! Bad Buffy, Bad. Not hot, just cute. Remember Riley? _

_Who, that guy who can't last 2 minutes in a round with you? This guy here is such a fine specimen of a warrior. And, with the hair and the scar and the accent, and the no nonsense attitude, he seems to genuinely care._

_Whoa Summers, slow down. Spike equals evil, bad, vampire. Get a grip. _Buffy grabbed the back of his neck and threw him to the ground. Spike rolled and leapt back up quicker than Buffy could count.

"You want me to lie down, luv, all you have to do is ask." Spike wasn't kidding. He lunged at her with the force poise of a tiger, and Buffy's arms shot up to deflect the blow. Spike flew over her shoulder and slammed into a tree.

Spike stood there for a minute, frozen, and looked to his left. Under his upheld arms, a fairly thick and pointy branch jutted out, ready to dust any vamp who leaned against it too heavily. "You just leave those things lying around, growing from trees and such? That's bloody dangerous. You could poke someone's eye out."

"You're right, it has proven useful. It's a shame you couldn't demonstrate that tonight."

Spike grabbed the branch. With the other arm, he elbowed it and it snapped off, well, like a twig. A quick backhand throw had the branch flying at the Slayer's head, but with a hand as quick as lightning, she was holding the newborn stake in her hand.

"I thought you said no wood."

_Good god, she's quick. Didn't even see that coming_, Spike thought admiring her speed. He looked at the wood in her hands. "Just thought we'd make this interesting."

* * *

From Buffy's bedroom window, Riley stood. He was thrilled that finally Buffy had a weapon in her hand and could finish that vampire off and make it look like an accident. Or not. His urge to kill had been rising for the last few minutes. Even though he was looking from a distance, he could clearly see that he didn't like what he saw in each other's eyes.

Spike's eyes hid a desire Riley could see that was deeper than bloodlust. And Buffy…well, she had a look of longing, and comfort, in her eyes that Riley dared not to examine any further. Riley wasn't one to think himself overreacting, and there had been several times he thought of jumping out the window and surprise them, just to end the whole scene.

But he regained his confidence and faith now. Spike was going to die. All would be right in the world.

* * *

Kick. Block. _I. _Jump. Dodge. _Love_. Double Punch. _This_. Reeling back from a punch in the face. _Girl!_

Spike could remember having a better time. Maybe, because he was dodging blows and thinking wasn't his strong point when he was fighting. Or ever. But here he was; mudslinging with a mortal enemy, sparring with a Slayer, his specialty, and comforting the girl he was slowly realizing he had a major thing for. He definitely didn't want this night to end.

The fighting had slowed down for the moment. Neither of them were tired, but they had been fighting non stop for about ten minutes, and after such a time, one needs to regain their balance.

As Spike did, Buffy lost hers as Spike dropped to a crouch and swung his foot around. This caught Buffy's legs as a surprise as she tripped backwards. Hard. She closed her eyes.

But the cold ground never came. Buffy opened her eyes, and instead found herself in grasp of cold leather. She looked up, and not a few inches in front of her face was the face of Spike. She felt his muscular arms, one across the back of her shoulders, and the other dangerously around her lower stomach and back, and both were clutching her tightly. In this moment of appropriate panic, Buffy never felt safer in her life.

_God, look at her. Position I always wanted the Slayer in, and killing's the furthest thing from my mind. Ok, well, it's clearly there too, but…Why isn't she moving?_ Spike looked down at the girl and smiled. "Never thought I could sweep you off your feet, eh Slayer?"

Buffy smiled, but failed to move. She just stared into his hungering eyes, waiting for her kick-Spike's-ass instinct to show up. It never did.

There they were; Vampire and Slayer, standing (and leaning) in each other's embrace for a time that wasn't measured. Looking into the enchanting cerulean depths, the mystic hazel truly saw something she hadn't seen before. Everything in her mind shouted _move!_, but the piercing gaze, the neatly tussled hair, the smell of liquor, the goofy but appreciative smile, and the fact that he was a vampire sent had too many conflicting misfires in her nervous system, that Buffy found it easier to just shut her brain off completely.

Spike had just topped tonight as the happiest night of his life with this very moment. It was so perfect, it seemed to last a lifetime and yet was snatched away in an instant when he subtly wafted the air.

Instead of the sweet smell of strawberries he so desperately needed to inhale, the bitter scent of rage stung his nostrils. _So soldier boy is here, _he wondered as his glance broke away from Buffy's to look up to her bedroom window. Spike got himself a wicked idea.

Missing his gaze, the slayer was caught off guard as the muscular vampire spun her body out of her arms. She rolled, but quickly found her footing. This was when her brain kicked in, and she was confused. Buffy didn't like being confused, so now she was mad as hell. Senses regained, she realized she had a perfectly good punching bag right in front of her to let it all out on.

Buffy lunged at the vampire with animalistic ferocity, but he deflected her kick. She whirled around and sent another roundhouse kick in his direction, but he simply grabbed her leg, and sent it spinning in the other direction. Buffy became dizzy and lost her balance.

She again felt the strong grip of leather, only this time it was holding her arm behind her back, and she was as good as paralyzed. She felt the coolness of an unnecessary breath on her exposed neck.

"Get up," he ordered. She didn't budge, and he tugged upwards with the captive arm.

"Come on, pet. Get up with me, or your really going to hurt the both of us." His throat was pressed against the back of her neck, and she could feel every vibration of his voice, especially the hearty chuckle he emitted after his little bargain.

_This is so degrading. _She slowly pushed up one leg, then the other, until both her and the vampire were fully upright. She felt his cheek against her ear, and the slight tingle shooting throughout her body was enough to silence the bitterness in her mind. Her adrenaline was pumping, and Buffy thought she was genuinely scared.

"I…" Spike huskily whispered, and Buffy could almost feel his grin as he said, "…win." His hand slid down from her shoulder to grip her upper arm. As she felt his head move down towards her exposed jugular, she was horrified to realize that the tingle before hadn't been fear at all.

"Boo," was all she heard when the movement of the body behind her had stopped. The light went off in her head. _Spike. Chip. Damnit!_ And as her body prepared to send the vampire one right between the eyes, all her head could do was giggle.

This was not what Spike had planned at all, although honestly, he hadn't had a real plan so much as a thought. But he began to chuckle as well. Neither of them was sure what was so funny, but Buffy stood there in Spike's grasp, and they both began to laugh their asses off at the ridiculousness of the situation.

In fact, the mystery joke was so entertaining that both of their keen instincts failed to notice the open door behind them. A clearing of the throat was enough to snap them both back into something resembling reality. They turned to see the silhouette of a large and angry man, but as their eyes adjusted to the new light source, the anger on the man's face was clearly being used to mask pain.

"Uh…Riley," Buffy was taking in what this must look like to her boyfriend. "This isn't…Spike was just…"

"Biting you? Don't tell me this isn't what it looks like. Were you planning on moving?"

At that, Buffy jolted, and Spike reluctantly let go as the scent of strawberries escaped him. This saddened him, but the look on the bloke's face was beyond priceless. He hid the smile creeping on his face, since he could see the fire was already doused in gasoline.

"We were just, you know, sparring. No offense; I know you two have been at it all day. Just sometimes, to let off a little steam, she prefers to tackle us bumpy-forehead types." That was too much, and the eyes on Soldier Boy's face as he pieced together the other day's argument gave Spike the icing on the cake that was this perfect night. He grinned.

"Leave her alone!" Riley practically dived off the porch, stake in hand. He was going to make powder out of this jackass if it was the last thing he did. Spike saw this coming and only continued to smirk as Riley brutally raised his arm in for the kill when…

A small but powerful force caught his wrist before he could strike. He followed the arm that held him until he was looking not at the face of a Slayer, but a deeply pissed off girlfriend.

"What the HELL are you doing!" she demanded of the large figure who, had an unknowing onlooker witnessed this scene, only _appeared_ to be more powerful than his mouse of a spouse.

"YOUR job!" Riley shouted back.

"It is not my job to kill Spike!" Buffy screeched without even thinking.

"Here, here!" agreed the wide eyed Spike who, despite appearing cocky, was unsure that the Slayer's arm would have caught the lug's stake wielding fist in time.

"_Not your job? _Not your job! It says right in the name 'Vampire Slayer' that, yah, you're job is exactly that."

"He wasn't going to bite me. He can't. Chip, remember?" she eyed Spike. "Tell him!"

"It's true, mate. Your buggering army did a bloody good job to make even the thought of draining a Slayer too painful to even daydream." He held his head to demonstrate to Riley, just in case he was too slow to remember what his lot had done to him. However, Spike was not one to have a way with words when it counted, and realized a little late that the mention of 'draining a Slayer' was not helping his case in the least.

_Thanks a lot, Spike. Maybe I should let him kill you. No,_ she sighed. He'd been a help tonight, and even though he was Spike, she wasn't going to punish him for being there when she needed him. "Look, he doesn't even technically register as a vampire anyway. I mean, he's pretty much a helpless bystander as threats go right now. It wouldn't be far to kill someone when they're that…_impotent._" She smirked. _Ok. Maybe a little punishment._

"Hey! I am _not_…that." Spike covered. He was grateful the Slayer was protecting him, but he wasn't about to let himself be emasculated in front of the walking testosterone machine. _Ugh. Speaking of, mate, maybe a little cologne once in a while would be nice._

"Look. Just stop this! Nothing's going on!" Buffy pleaded.

"He needs to leave you alone!" Riley shot at her.

"I'll decide who I will and will not spend time with thank you." Buffy was not one to let a man protect her, or in this case, control her life. But Spike figured that this was not the way he wanted the conversation to go if he wanted to come out of it in anything but an ashtray.

"Don't stand up for him. Don't choose him over me!" Riley barked at Buffy. Her eyes widened and she was ready to give him hell.

"Will you just stop all this jealousy! Just stop…" she began to lose her resolve as a tear caught in her throat, "…stop all this. First Mom, then Dawn, now _Spike_?" She wasn't going to cry, not again. Emotions would get in the way of what she wanted to say. "It's not about choosing them over you! It's about me being needed. Why can't you just support me!"

Buffy couldn't hold it in any longer, and a stream of tears poured down her burning cheeks. _Bugger,_ Spike cursed himself. _Definitely not the way the plan was supposed to go. Should really think these things through. God, she needs someone to hold her hand right now. She's trying to be strong 'cuz the Slayer bit, but it's just making it worse. Captain America, put down the stake already!_

"You know what? This is a lover's spat I choose not to end up dead in. I'll just…yeah…" and Spike began to walk towards the bushes. He felt a small hand around his left arm. He stopped, then turned around to see the Slayer looking him pleadingly with her eyes swimming in tears. The two rivals communicated through longing stares.

_If you leave now, you're not coming back, are you?_

_Not this place pet. Not to comfort you. Too dangerous. _He nodded and his expression changed. _Don't worry, I'll be around._

He smiled, and then was off towards the cemetery to leave the two of them to work out what only he could admit to seeing as a doomed relationship. He'd thought he would have some satisfaction in knowing that it was partly his fault, but he was too angry with himself for being angry with himself for causing the Slayer heartache. _Damn this chip! You'd think they'd programmed me a bloody conscious or something! _And then Spike was cloaked by darkness.

When Buffy turned towards her waiting boyfriend, she was sure steam was fuming out of his ears. She looked towards the stake he slowly lowered, noticing blood dripping in his hand; most likely his own. She didn't care right now. She was too confused.

Riley took the hint. He quietly trudged to the side of the house, leaving Buffy alone to deal with her emotions. He was too shaky to be her support beam right now, and headed home.

And as the two men who truly knew Buffy's feelings walked in separate directions, she pondered the irony of who each of them were; the man she loved and the monster she loathed. And for an instant, just a fleeting instant, she had forgotten which one was which.

The End.

* * *

I hope you all noticed that Riley had no inner monologue due to lack of brain cells. It's a problem he has. 


End file.
